My Sweet Cassabanana!
by The Ghoul In Pajamas
Summary: First they have to swim to shore, where they might either drown or be eaten by sharks. Then once their there they have no food, no wand, no nothing. And no shoes for her, now that she's thrown both of hers at him. Harry hopes she's use to going barefoot.
1. The Prologue

**__****Authors Note: Please read carefully. **_This is my disclaimer, for the entire story and every page here after. _

**___I will not post it again so don't ask because I will not try to remember to post it with each chapter. _**

**___I don't own anything but my imagination. _**

**___ I was inspired J.K. Rowling's wonderful world _**

**___I hope you enjoy it! _**

* * *

**_MY SWEET CASSABANANA_**

**_The Prologue_**

* * *

_I am so hot, and he's so. . .such a loser major! So why in the hell did I listen to him? This was all his fault. . .everything! All of it! Right down to the part of me dieing in this plane thing, 50,000 feet in the air! _

"I hate you Harry Potter. . . I hate you. . . I hate you. . . I HATE THAT YOU WERE EVER BORN. . . DO YOU HEAR ME!"

"WILL YOU STOP YELLING, JUST SHUT UP SO I CAN THINK FOR A MOMENT!"

"Don't— you tell me to shut up! I hope you. . .I hope you . . .!"

"What. . .what Pansy, you hope I drink a cock-shrinking potion, get spattergroit, kill myself, have my wand blow up in my pocket!"

"No. . .fall out of this areoplane thing and crack that head of yours open before I even hit the ground Harry Potter! So I get a chance to laugh my arse off before I . . ._oo-oo-OOh. . . M-yyyyy. . . . G-O-D!"_

* * *

For Pansy Parkinson it was without a doubt a dream to come true. The chance of a life time and oh yes! A once in a life time opportunity to catch the eyes of her sexy new boss, Draco _Uno! _Malfoy. But little did she know that accepting Mr. Uno as her new boss meant more work, loads of it. Which also meant more responsibilities, tighter deadlines. No problem! She was always a witch ready for a hard challenge. That is, if it came with a hard tight ass, a six-pack, blonde hair and killer gray eyes in the contract. But if she had only known that taking the new job offer meant that she had to go with scarhead as her new assistant then she would've turned the whole thing down flat. And this is just her luck to be stuck on a muggle contraction with him!

. . . .Computers! Radars! And what the hell is a black box?

After Hogwarts and graduating with a fair amount of honors Pansy landed her first job writing for The Daily Prophet, which was a fat joke and a right laugh. She couldn't make any money. She was always given the lame stories, dead end interviews with magically talking lamas or some other nonsense like that. While the good stuff, the really good stuff got taken by the ever famous Rita Skeeter. _Just how was a girl suppose to make it in this forsaken world?_

Now Harry is her only hope of survival on a deserted island with nothing but banana trees, guava fruits and a sea filled with man-eating sharks for company. But who would expect for boy wonder, her so-named loser major; that he'd not only be the chosen one, but that he'd be her only one!

The one to capture her dreams and drive her hormones totally wild beneath the heat of the Brazilian sun!

Could it be that she's had too many coconuts or could it be that she's simply going completely bananas over Harry Potter?

* * *

Harry held onto the seatbelt tightly.

Screwing up the scheduling for her portkey has made Harry Potter, Pansy's enemy number 1. Strange how fate flips a coin. Hard to believe that he's been secretly lusting after the foul mouthed Slytherin for months now.

* * *

Now they're alone together in a tropical paradise where he's free of worry, free from heaps of paper work and due dates, free of people looking at his scar all the time and asking how he'd done it, how he defeated Voldemort?

. . . .Now here in paradise, he was simply free to spend every moment giving into his sexual heated fantasies dreaming about her, or at least until they are rescued. _If they're ever rescued._

The big problem.

No one knew they took a muggle plane.

The other problem.

She hates him! Not just hate him, hate him. She hates him royal major, whatever that means!

What Harry is about to discover is that there's nothing more satisfying and nothing closer to the sweetness of danger, than the full blown arousal of feisty Slytherin witch whose been searching heaven and earth for the perfect wizard meant to love only her.

* * *

_**On to Chapter One - **_**_If you read, please leave a review good or bad. It's just polite to do so._**


	2. Chapter 1

**_MY SWEET CASSABANANA_**

Chapter 1

* * *

Pansy received her wand and a black cat as her personal pet at the age of eleven. She's never been a believer of luck though. Sure she could have chosen an owl like most of the kids that attended Hogwarts. Or she could have been as lame as Longbottom and came with a toad. There were some kids that brought bats, lizards, owls, one boy even had a fox for a pet. But Pansy had to have the best and the most original of all. What was a witch without a cat! Not just any cat mind you. A black one, with yellow almond eyes. His name was Hollow and he matched her hair every day of the week; it was perfect!

* * *

_I've never been a believer of good luck. Luck could be good, or luck could be bad. You couldn't blame a shitty day on a black cat or on the thirtieth just because it rolls around on a Friday and then say its bad luck. Besides, who made up such ridiculous rules anyway? No one would know it but my father, my real father he's dead. He'd died in a freak accident when I was five. He wasn't a gambler or a man to take wild chances. But he often walked around with a lucky coin in his pocket. _

_My dad was also a part of the Nimbus league of Inventors, he specialized in broom designing; with their accurate turns and sharp breaking points in mid flight. He was a natural with enchantment and spellwork. But he was always a inventor first and far most and no invention ever left his lab with out carefully being tested personally by him for commanding errors, flight defects and possible magical imperfections. _

_Oh yeah the coin—Good luck had come out of it when he landed the job long before finishing his training at Durmstrang Academy. Mother says that was the day he found his lucky coin on the job site. He had it the day he came up with the Cleansweep Design. The Company had sold them as top of the line, replacing old and outdated house brooms. He made a pretty shiny sickle from them, a life's fortune. _

_Then came the day that he built up enough nerve to speak to lady that would later become my mother. She said that he was flipping that ridiculous lucky coin when he asked her out for the first time. It was in his pocket the day of their wedding, it was in his pocket the day I was born, and it was with him every day I could remember after that. Sometimes he'd even let me hold it._

_If not for the famous lucky coin, he often said his life would have never gone so well. _

_My mother and I weren't in London when it happened. We were having tea in France at my Grandmother's when a man dressed in a solid gray lab coat arrived at her door._

_There had been an accident at the company said the man to my mother and then the room went silent. It's like I said, at the time I was only five and kids at that age they don't think about things, they just do them. _

_I heard the man talking too my while she was crying and I remember thinking how glad I was that father wasn't going in to work today, but that he could maybe go in and help all those poor people. It never occured to me that he could be one of the few that had gotten hurt. __So I picked up my favorite dolls Belinda and sat her up against the windowsill. That's when something gold and shiny caught my eye. It glisten in the sunlight so brightly it almost look like leprechauns gold. So I took it out of Belinda's dress pocket. It was my father's lucky coin._

_It took some time, but life began moving in a positive direction after a few years without him. Well, as positive as they could for a girl and a new widowed single mother I suppose. I was seven when my mother eventually remarried a man from my father's company. Nicholas Lowderseid, He was the same man that found my mother and I in France the day my father died. He was an okay guy, really nice to me and he loved my mother a great deal. But he was not a Parkinson that was for sure, in fact, he would never be a Parkinson, and I would never be a Lowderseid. It was a funny sounding name, from Ireland, the "i" was always silent._

_My mother never had to worry about a thing, nor did I. Nicholas was a wonderful stepfather as far as stepfather's go. Then he design the Nimbus Line. So now in my life there was a second small fortune for my mother and I. My mother never had another baby. She wanted one very badly, but Nicholas for some reason simply couldn't have children. They spent loads of money and seen all types of Healer's. But still there was nothing. My mother took to working to keep her mind away from the idea of how bad she felt that she and Nick couldn't have a baby of their own. She opened a small spell shop selling beauty products,and gathered a good number of clients. Women who were well-kept and equally as rich as we were. Her products were very expensive and soon her line was being used by witches everywhere._

* * *

Pansy flipped open her copy of the Daily Prophet and skimmed her eyes gleefully over Ginerva's Horoscope for this morning. Hers predicted the beginning of a romantic adventure. She smiled wide. It was the kind of Horoscope she loved to read. It might mean that Draco would finally take her away on that outing he'd been promising her since forever. Daydreaming about her predication from Ginny's column she anticipated his arrival in the office with more eagerness than usual when he came in for an interview.

The minute he set foot in the building she could sense his arrival. Nobody else in London could stir up a commotion like the arrival of Draco and his father Lucius whenever the Daily Prophet was set to produce an article for either of them. Nobody else ever came close, except for that left-wanded Harry Potter. But that was a thing of the past and Potter's moment of fame had come to a slow halt now that life was back to normal after the stand-off.

No one could strut through her heart like Draco Malfoy, no one could slap on that painfully sinful, strip-naked-for-me cologne like he could. _Strip-Naked _was a fragrance from her mother's line of wizarding perfume. Pansy, mention Draco as a possible candidate for promotional sale one evening at brunch, making the product a direct hit with the ladies. And Pansy got her thank you from him all right. A nice long all night until the morning light kind of thank you.

She lost her place on her typewriter and punched a bunch of random keys with her elbow. She then had to use a correcting spell to delete the letters and hoped that Rita wasn't standing near by. Lately the sly-super-slutty-Skeeter had a nasty habit of coming up behind her and standing directly over her while she worked on her stories.

After the correction was made she went back to her daydreaming. Draco might not realize it yet, but he needed her in his life. Because they were the perfect combination together. Two former Slytherins to take on the world. Unlike the other female reporters employed at the Daily Prophet, she didn't begrudge him if he took a little peep down her blouse. He had the privilege of peeping whenever he fancied. Although her mother would have a mandrake for a kid if she thought for one minute that her precious Pansy was having premarital sex. She would call it tasteless and not befitting of a young witch. But she had to see things her way. Times were different from when she was a young. Besides Draco was gorgeous, rich, and single. And wounded. Not anywhere you could see, but deep in his soul and heart.

Pansy gave a deep sigh of sympathy.

He had shared his dark, and life threatening stories to her. Filling her in on all the times his life had been placed in mortal danger, when he had been selected to serve You-know-who. All the torture and the near death missions. Draco told her that because of his past scars, that he didn't trust anyone and it was the reason he could never be ready to choose a wife.

Once she learned this crucial piece of information into his soul, she could see the lost expression in his gray hurt filled eyes every time he looked at her. Because she knew what it was like to feel lost and alone and she was just the witch to fill that empty place in his heart. Besides, he was a Leo and she was a Virgo and according to _"Ginny's Daily Horoscope Predictions For Love" _today was theirs.

But first she had to be double sure that when he left for Italy with his father that she went with them. Draco had a personal assistant, she was a blonde beauty, part veela and part witch. He took her with him everywhere he went. In fact, he even took an assistant for his assistant. In addition to that, Draco had a bad reputation of choosing a different secondary assistant with random witches from her firm and then dropping them off the minute he got back to London. A couple of witches, that once wrote for the Daily Prophet actually quit over it.

Out of the six that she knew about, only two of them besides herself still worked here. The other two always warned other incoming witches not to accept business offers from Draco, because he only wanted a one-night stand. This was fine for Pansy, because their fear of their pristine girlish dignity did most of the work for her; keeping other women at bay. Pansy knew how his little game went, but she intended to break his pattern. She'd felt her chance coming for the past couple of months now. It had been almost a year since their last rendezvous and she wasn't about to let it slip past her.

Draco walked onto the fifth floor of The Daily Prophet. This was her floor. He walked over and stood right behind her chair, he could read what she'd been typing on her typewriter. She was sure he could also see that he made her very nervous and twice as hot. So hot she couldn't think straight any longer, what was her story about again? The Drainage Problem of Knockturn Alley- NO! that was last week's. Oh yeah, a new flavor ice-cream. Flortean's Ice Cream Parlor Goes Sour.

Nervous wasn't how she wanted him to see her. Nervous would get her into trouble and she'd end up turning in a story that got her an earful from the Super-Sauerkraut-Skeeter, rampaging away at how she belonged down in the basement cutting obitutaries with the half-trolls.

But nobody knew how completely gaga she went over Draco Malfoy, and she intended to keep it that way. He was walking her way. She regained her composure.

Savvy.

Sophisticated.

Sexy.

Snobbish Slytherin Pansy Parkinson, it had always worked for her.

"That's a nice color on you, Pansy," he said.

"Why, Draco!" Congratulating herself on wearing the peacock green blouse that brought out the color of her eyes, she turned, as if totally surprised to discover him standing there behind her. The back of her chair brushed against his crotch. She looked up at him and was careful not to over smile. Potterface annoyed her every morning in the coffee room with complimenting her smile. She hated her smile and felt she had a mouth wide as a cauldron pot. She had to be careful not to overdo the smiling. " Draco, I didn't realize you were standing there."

He made a (humph) sound as the front of his pants felt the pressure of her chair backing into him. "Blimey, hope I didn't startle you." he said.

No, not possible, she thought, admiring that adorably smooth turn of his nose. She always knew that the moment Draco arrived, He could no more startle her than a goblin could lay eggs. "Only a wee bit," she said. Is there something I can help you with Draco?"

He had grown into the spitting younger image of his father. He had the same whitish blonde hair only he chose to wear it in one of those modern beach boy cuts and with an irresistible smile of pearly whites. He used that smile on her now. "As a matter of fact, I do need a favor. I desperately need someone to port with my assistant over to Italy tomorrow and take notes during a meeting. It'll probably go late, so we'll plan to come back the next morning. I checked in with Rita and she said she could spare you for a couple of hours."

_Praise Merlin and slap her with his wand! _If there was ever a time in her life that she felt like over smiling, this was that time. At last she was the chosen one. The office grew very quiet, and she realized that all five witches in the room with her had stop typing and were waiting for her to answer. She knew they wouldn't like it when she said yes, but that couldn't be helped.

Still, she didn't want to seem too eager, or too available. "Actually I had dinner plans tomorrow night."

From across the room Susan Bones gave her a thumbs-up.

Draco scowled, his gray eyes darkening like the sky before a storm. Wow she thought, even his scowl was as sexy as his smile. She loved the way he wore a business style shirt with no tie, and the top couple of buttons undone to show off his silver chain bearing the Malfoy emblem around his neck. "But maybe I can change my plans," she said. From the muffle groans, she knew she lost the admiration of all five witches as they went back to their typing. Yet Draco was suddenly bright and cheerful, which made her feel good.

His cheerfulness might be all about sex right now, but sex was a starting point with most wizards. Soon he'd discover that he'd found the right witch, at last.

"I'd appreciate that," he said. "When can you let me know?"

She took a glance at the ruby red watch she was wearing. "Before lunch, I'm sure."

"Good. I—"

" Oh, hey, Draco!" Harry Potter, who was also one of the company's top reporters, walked over to Pansy's desk. As usual, Potter was loaded down with two different camera's and his notebook overflowing with new addition for his bits of news throughout the day. On top of that he was juggling a steaming cup of hot coffee, lumps of sugar and a pint of cream. Pansy sighed. Obvously her hints of murder had fallen on deaf ears. His glasses began to steam up as he took a sip from his coffee cup, and his dark hair stood out in sixty-eight different directions. To make matters worse, he was wearing that god awful sweater of pumpkin orange and some horrible plaid eggplant color. It had been last year's holiday gift from Mrs. Weasley, when he and Ginny were still an item.


	3. Chapter 2

**_MY SWEET CASSABANANA_**

Chapter 2

* * *

People still saw Potter as a hero. She even heard some reporters go as far as to call him the official "chosen reporter," whatever that meant. Nobody seemed to care what he looked like, as long as he continued creating brilliant articles that kept the public riding on the tips of their broom sticks.

Pansy looked at him as he rudely interrupted her special moment with Draco. _He was such a complete nerd._ He'd never get a new girlfriend with his hair all over the place like that. It's no wonder why Ginny dumped him cold. She might've had enough just trying to groom him and pick out his wardrobe on a daily. "I hear you're heading for Italy tomorrow," Harry said. He pushed up his glasses with the same hand holding his cup of hot coffee. It sloshed over the rim and onto his hand. "Ouch." He licked at his fingers, and eyed Pansy. "Damn, hot."

"You should use Murlap on that." Draco said instantly.

Potter looked at him with his finger in his mouth.

"No, try troll boggies." Pansy said with a nasty tone.

Draco looked at her. "Really, you seriously would tell an injured man to put troll boogies on a flesh wound?"

"Yes. Regular troll boogies for you Potter. They stick better." She'd had always been sensitive to other people's injuries, in fact she could almost feel the sting of the burn when he done it. But she had become accustomed to Harry doing silly things like that to grab her attention and to get her to speak to him. "And go do it soon, or it'll give you a splendid blister to match with that scar of yours."

"Ouch!" Draco replied.

"Yeah, Erm. Thanks. I'm sure I have some—troll—boogies in my desk for safe keeping. A few I collected from you."

Pansy smiled. "I'm sure you do."

Harry turned to Draco instead. "So you are going to Italy right?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Rita wants me to tag along with you."

Disappointment spilled all over Pansy's shiny new opportunity. _Talk about a loser!_ Every other witch who'd gone with Draco had the pleasure of going with him alone. It would be just her luck that when it was at last her turn, that Harry Loser the Potter had to tag along. It was like the stars were aligning against her horoscope prediction.

Draco didn't to seem any happier about having Potter come along as she. "What for?" Draco asked somewhat heated.

"The Minister of Magic is still having trouble contacting the Prime Minister about a computer problem at a university there. It seems that someone has been cursing student equipment with some sort of zapping jinx. The muggle professors are calling it a virtual virus that literally tries to French toast anyone that comes near it. Mitchell, Arthur and Longbottom have gone over already, but neither of them have been able to straighten things out. They've be obliterating lab students and half the staff for a week now. Considering Mitchell and Longbottom aren't familiar with muggle artifacts much; Arthur has sent a request asking for my assistance."

"What's a cumpooter?" Draco asked.

"Not much mind you. It's an electronic. Er—a muggle tool used for, keeping journals, classwork, mathematical calculations and exploring the net."

"Exploring a net huh? Seems like an awful waste of time. Does Rita know I wasn't coming back until Friday morning?"

"Uh, yeah sure. Arthur has booked me a room at one of the hotels there. It's no problem having a place to stay it's just that getting another port-key schedule in time could be a bit of a hassle. My cousin Dudley use to own a computer, so I know a little about them when their normal; not sure I'll be much help if their cursed but it's worth a try."

Pansy studied Potter with a look that wanted to melt his face off.

How could she spend the night with Draco and Potter not know about it, if he found out, she'd never be able to explain to the girls that nothing happened and that she wasn't going to just be another one of Draco's one-night-babes. Even if she was!

But she had to be alone with Draco to give it her best shot and here was Pothead to throw folly in her plans. He was such a pest! She could tell from Draco's body language that he didn't want to take Potter along, but the poor dear really had no choice. He couldn't very well say no to an order given by a Minister himself, merely because he was planning a roll in the sack with a reporter.

"I have to be there by eight." Draco said. "Oh, and Pansy's coming with me to take notes at the meeting," he added casually.

Harry didn't blink an eye, so apparently he already knew about that. He just looked down and glanced at her, his expression as sour as summer porridge. "Yeah, Rita mentioned she might be going," he said but his gaze said more. "No problem."

He might be acting like he was okay with it, but she knew what he was thinking. She felt a blush of shame coming on. Having Harry think poorly of her bothered her more than she wanted it to. Who was he trying to be anyway; a hero in a pumpkin plaid sweater? "Go down to the infirmary and get some murlap," she said, "before that blisters on you."

"Okay, I'll do that. See you in the morning." Potter trotted off. The horrible letter "H" that had been crotched into the pocket of the sweater remained in her mind. Pansy felt herself growing irritated remembering the ridiculous looking letter just hanging there. He was a well-respected reporter and a man with an astounding past there were famous tailors that would give their left and right arm to fashion a wardrobe for him if he'd just take the time to visit one of them. He could even have them set up an appointment in his office for Merlin's sake. She felt the urge to erase any lingering effects from the cold stare Potter had given her.

"Hasn't Potter ever heard of Michal McClelland's Wears for Warlocks?" She muttered. McClelland, was a British Wizarding designer known for his fashionable men's clothing for the up scaled wizard wear. New jackets, sweaters, British sport coats that could easily convert into a formal cloak; things of that nature.

Draco laughed. "Do you worry about Potter?"

"No!" she glanced up at Draco. She couldn't believe he said that. He seemed to be implying that she was having second thoughts about their going to Italy together. And he probably was.

"Good, because you shouldn't."

Sexual excitement curled in her stomach. "Okay, I won't."

"I'll pick you up at seven-thirty," he said. "assuming you still plan to go." His expression told her he knew she would go anywhere he asked her to.

She lowered her voice. "You do plan to take off without Potter don't you?" she didn't want Harry to go, for her it would be just as well if they left him standing alone, in say, a false location, waiting.

Draco leaned over her desk, which brought his face very close to hers. He kissed her lips softly. "I bet my father's best bottle of nettle wine that he doesn't make it on time." He smiled at her. "And I'm porting out at eight."

She nearly passed out from the sexy savor of his lickable lips as they made a sure path for her earlobe as he spoke.

"Aye, aye, Mr. Malfoy sir." she murmured.

* * *

"Mother, what do you think of this color?"

Mrs. Lowderseid looked at her daughter sitting across the dining table. All mothers thought their daughters were beautiful, she supposed, but Pansy grew lovelier to her every day. She had inherited her father's green eyes. That odd mixture of toad green mixed with watery blues specks had been the primary reason to why Pansy had been conceived. Her hair was like her father's too, the same color of licorice taffy, deep as midnight whiskey.

As a young girl Pansy favored a simple cut that brushes just above her cheeks. No potions or charmed highlights to ruin the natural inkiness of her hair. Only now it had bloomed well past her shoulders, long and flowing.

No wonder why the Malfoy boy wanted to take her on an overnight stay. Pansy's Mother sighed. She worried about her going anywhere with Draco Malfoy. She knew Pansy had been chasing his cloak-tail ever since she was a young witch in school. The boy seemed to show admirable feelings towards her as well; in the beginning.

But as they spun away into adulthood, her little girl no longer seemed to be enough to appease his sexual appetite. Oh she heard the stories of the ever famous _Lover of Ladies Lucius Malfoy_. And his son Draco wasn't any better. "I expect you're going doesn't matter if you chose the perfect shade or not." She watched as Pansy began to sort through her new line of spring lipstick and extended glosses.

"Well of course. Oh my nails are chipped. I can't arrive in the morning with a chipped nail."

Mrs. Lowderseid knew her daughter was playing her like a fiddle. Whenever she began to whine and pout it worked, because she knew that what her mother always wanted of her— was to be the kind of elegant and well respected young witch equal to that of all respectable witches. "How will you and Draco be arriving to Italy?"

"By port-key. His father as scheduled one for our departure at eight o'clock sharp. And we'll be staying at the Genevieve Hote`l."

"Who cares? He could have treated you to dinner first Pansy. Perhaps joined you for dinner with your father and I before whisking you away half around the globe."

There was a time that she feared Pansy would have been foolish enough to get herself pregnant with the Malfoy's boy child in hopes of preserving a life with him. Thank goodness she had taught her far better than that over the years. It was unfortunate that her daughter had come home tonight with such an ill report of her workday today. It absolutely ruined her mother's surprise. She never dreamed of becoming a new mother at this old age, but this afternoon she received an owl from their family's Healer. The procedure had worked and she and Nicholas were going to be parents to a new baby. She was with child again after all these years.

"Mother. You, I and Nick have been to Italy loads of times and you know Draco, why is it so important if he comes to dinner or not." Pansy spread out her fingers on the rich pine of the elongated dining table. "I think a French manicure this time, don't you? It's more natural looking and it'll go with whatever I'm wearing." Pansy lifted the delicate golden brush and gently stroked the tip of each finger. A beautiful glossy French manicure finish coated each finger with the smallest stroke. She used the other tip of the brush to tiny diamond gem on each of her nails.

* * *

**_If you read, please leave a review good or bad. It's just polite to do so._**


	4. Chapter 3

**_MY SWEET CASSABANANA_**

Chapter 3

* * *

Her mother was about to ask what she was planning to wear exactly, when Nicholas appeared in the fireplace wearing his usual business attire and a gray lab coat.

Like Pansy's mother, Nicholas's hair was also autumn brown. He was nine years past her mother's senior but still a kid at heart. Working with beauty products held her mother's beauty considerably over the years. She didn't appear to be a day over thirty, but being a specialist in the field of outer beauty often made her worry about little extra details such as the proper hair color and cuticles maintenance. But those things were minor. They were going to be new parents, and that was major.

And her daughter taking this disastrous trip with that loathsome Malfoy boy, that was also major.

Nicholas removed his lab jacket and tossed it over the back of the dining chair. A house elf appeared promptly with his dinner plate piping hot and a chocolate pastry beside it. He listened to the dispute of his wife as she tries again to talk reason into her daughter's head. Nicholas used his fork and knife to slice his lamb into little chewable pieces. He did this with his potatoes and carrots as well. "Pansy, darling what your mother is wanting to know and what she is obviously too modest to say is. We want to know if you're going to have, well. . . _sex _with this Draco fellow, since you're staying overnight with him regardless of his reputation with other women."

"Nick!" his wife scolded him.

Nicholas simply smiled at them both with a sparkle in his eye.

"That's none of your business father," Pansy said. "You shouldn't talk and chew, it's a hideous habit."

"No my darling; a man who gets his kicks out of breaking young girls hearts; now that's a hideous habit."

"I have no idea, where you two have gotten these wild ideas about Draco. They are only rumors!"

"Rumors are they?" asked her mother. "Then why is it that your Draco accepted an invitation to that whoresome wizarding magazine, where he all but gave every shameless detail of several acquaintances he's had the pleasure of knowing on more than a business level," she said giving a nod and seeking a little extra support from her husband. "—as he so proudly put it. Why, they even title the story—"

"Draco the Virgin Assassinator. . .yes, yes I know mother must you always bring that to the surface."

Nicholas seemed to find this very funny. "Lucius wasn't happy with that bit I can assure you. We haven't been able to get him to a decent card game since that tabloid hit the bookstores." when he stopped laughing long enough to get the words out, Nick took a sip from his wine glass. "Really Pansy dear, do you really want to get tied up with a fellow like that. If you're seeking a bow, I know of a nice lad that works at the factory, has a promising future!"

"No thank you father," she retarded "and I am perfectly capable of finding my own man." Pansy glared at him and fought the urge to make him the target for all her frustration she was having at the moment about going through with the trip.

"Perhaps she's doing drugs." He whisper to her mother as if she wasn't sitting right in front of them.

"FATHER!"

"Nicholas please this is no time for jokes darling."

"who's joking? I'm not joking. There's been talk about it everywhere you know. If you ignore your kids it makes them do drugs."

"But we don't ignore her! We don't ignore you do we darling?"

"No mother."

"Aaa. . . Then it's because we don't ignore her enough. It's either one way or the other, I forget which is which. You know kids today you practically need a manual to understand what their thinking or feeling half the time."

With a sigh, Pansy stood and walked over to the china cabinet where her mother had laid the entire new line of nail-grooming supplies. She kicked off her pricey black heels and stood on the lush carpet completely barefoot. Opening a large silver box, she lifted the folding panels inside one at a time. And took out a shiny bristle paint brushe. Next, she took out a clear crystal soaking bowl that began to instantly fill with pink lavender bubbles and a soothing fragrance of vanilla rose.

Nicholas might have been joking about what would happen tomorrow night, but her mother knew good and well that Pansy planned to have sex with Draco Malfoy. She also knew that her daughter wasn't a virgin anymore. Draco had seen to that years ago when she was barely fifteen. But Virginity wasn't really the issue.

She studied the array of polishes sitting so neatly in the fancy collection, as if it held all the answers for her. Her mother came up behind her. "French, didn't you say?"

"French," Pansy repeated. "Mother, I know how you may feel about him, but it's the chance I've been waiting for. I've been in dreaming of Draco for as long as I could remember, you know that. But I never told him because I didn't want to jinx it. I didn't want him to think I was being too pushy or too desperate. You see, he's got some pretty deep scars from when he was going through all that stuff back then with You-know-who- and all. I just know he needs somebody so much, and I plan to be the one. I want to marry him."

"Marry?" Her mother dropped the crystal soaking bowl, which shattered on the dinning room floor. Sparkling bits of glass rolled everywhere.

"Mother, your bowl! You spent a fortune designing this bowl." Pansy dropped to her knees and pulled out her wand.

"Watch your bare feet with the glass!" Mrs. Lowderseid gazed at the broken glass on the floor and knew it was a very bad sign. Of course the bowl was made of pure crystal. But she owned another one just like it for twenty-one years now. It was a gift to her and her first husband shortly after Pansy was born. She had taken them both to a craftsmen who was very skilled in charming objects. He helped her to design an entire line of identical bowls like this one, some smaller, some larger. In time she made him a very rich man as more and more women began to place special orders for other crystal bowls that would fill with specialized perfumes and fragrances that suited each client's taste. But this one, this one was an original to its twin and it had always been the first and only one of its kind; she never leant the pair to anyone, or let them out of her possession.

Pansy never knew the history of the crystal bowl. She knew how her daughter felt about placing too much faith in objects or trinkets as a sign of luck or destiny.

But all the same there it was shattered into pieces after twenty-one years. And now her little girl had her eyes set on a wizard who could ensure that she was well cared for all of her life. Not that her daughter needed it, but the idea of it was comforting. She should be thrilled for her, but the bad feeling wouldn't go away. He was not the right man for her baby. Merlin help them both, but as a mother she could just feel it.

"Don't go to Italy with Draco, darling." Her mother started picking up the fragments of her twenty-one year old heirloom. "It will be a mistake."

"Oh, Mother." Pansy was still on her knees and together they began to use their wands to vanquish the shattered pieces of crystal. The bowl would mend but the magic was lost forever. "It's not a mistake. I know how you feel about having relations before marriage. It's the only reason you dislike him so badly. But I know what I'm doing this time."

Her mother knew that her daughter wouldn't all of a sudden listen to her and turn down this opportunity. Pansy might still live at home on their estate with them, but she was plenty wealthy in her own right and had received her own vaults in Gringotts the day she turned eleven; from her father, her true father.

And in addition to the savings that she and Nicholas had established for her. She could afford to vacation in Italy a thousand times over with no help from Draco, or the Malfoy's. she could afford to move out and begin a life of her own, without her mother always nagging her. She surely didn't have to bother her time with writing for the Daily Prophet at that miserably small desk they called an office. Pansy could easily buy her way into the company and have the position of her dreams. But her little girl was not a little girl any longer. And as a mother she should be honored to have a child with dreams and ambitious goals that she wanted to achieve on her very own and not just have them handed to her. But there was one thing she knew above all else. Pansy would go on this business trip with the Malfoy boy whether if her mother wanted her to or not. Simply because Pansy had never taken the time to try and love anyone else. For her there was no one meant for her, other than this Draco.

* * *

Harry stayed up late that night, just reading as much as he could about electronics, digital programming, software upgrades anything he thought would be useful just in case Pansy drilled him. He hadn't learned much about computers over the past few years, to be honest he hadn't learned much of anything other than they were used for playing games and finding dates.

He really wanted to push his play into plan, plus, he really, really wanted to impress her. So he was doing his best to follow along in the books but they would often venture away from the discussion of computers and start on about a thing called a PC. He overed it a few times and had a hunch this PC thing was along the same line as a computer and just as good as the real thing.

At least he could remember the basics about them now. The screen, a keyboard used for typing, mouse pad and the power buttons. He let out a deep breath of aggravation. Lately his fantasies about Ginny had become sort of mixed up with his ideas of having sex with Pansy.

Why were relationships were so damned complicated. With journalism it was strictly up, front and direct; well at least when he published a story it was that way. He loved that the moment he began his articles he knew how to start, conclude and finish the piece. With witches it wasn't that way, you could never tell just how the story would end. Ginny—was a perfect example. He thought their relationship would last a lifetime, but it was the name Potter she loved, not necessarily the wizard. Once she established a name for herself and his faded into the background as just a reporter, she was suddenly to high-class to belong to just one man.

After they both land there journalism jobs, she even began to dress different. The outfits she wore were super fitted and with cute intern flared skirts that skimmed a little too high above her knees. They were a violation of dress code, but she wore them anyhow.

Over time the outfit's loss their business jackets and the skirts grew a bit shorter, minus the intern flare.

Of course Parkinson's attire wasn't too far from the sort that Ginny wore. Actually now that he thought about it, most of witches working at The Daily Prophet had a thing for miniskirts. Harry was never a man to lack confidence unless it centered on a girl. Then he couldn't even formulate up a smooth enough line to ask them out for a simple cup of morning coffee.

And every time he thought he'd worked up the courage to ask Parkinson out for coffee, he'd walk into the office where she was typing away and she'd look so together that he'd lose his nerve. One look at her perfect-fingernails, her perfect-makeup, and the perfect way her hair flowed and he'd realize that she was just another perfect Ginny. Plus she would never go out with a guy like him. Harry was like most wizards if not worse; he had zero fashion-sense.

During one humiliating conversation when she tried to give him some advice about his taste in clothing, he started to tell her how he grew up wearing most of his cousin's Dudley's second hand clothes. Suddenly she saw him as a nerd in addition to being unusually lame. He was unusual but not lame. He could change that about himself, but didn't really want to. Being himself paid exceedingly well. Being different was what he was best suited for. All the best women he had ever known were a bit strange also; Hermione, Molly, Luna. He assumed after all those years of being in love with Ginny that he would marry her, and when they fell apart he stuck to lame and just working.

He had taken on a leading story Untold Mysterious of the Leprechauns, that's when Parkinson was hired on as his underwriting reporter. It wasn't the first time he seen her obviously. He began to analyze the strong attraction he was having towards her and decided it was totally based on the laws of rebounding after his dump with Ginny. Parkinson came in totally beautiful, new to the firm; but it wasn't just that, it was something different about her that made her stand out from the other female reporters there and he'd driven himself crazy in the past year and half just trying to figure out what it was that made him feel so deeply nuts about her. Whatever it was, he was sure it had more to do with his own hidden loneliness than anything else.

Plus he couldn't help believing that under that perfectly polished exterior of her was a entirely new world of excitement. To take a chance on her was risky; he had always been fascinated with anything risky or hazardous to his health.

But apparently when it came to _Draco_, there was no sense of riskiness for her. She was just like the other women who had leap into a chance to go swinging all over London with_ him_ and then leap into _his_ bed, a suite with an romantic view and then dumped like yesterday's article.

He flipped another page in the computer manual. A year ago, Harry had convinced Malfoy to come in for an interview. He'd promised him the leading headline in New & Famous Wizards Tomorrow; after that they had started hanging out quite a few times together. It wasn't long before Draco had gotten him so drunk one night, that he began confessing his love for Parkinson to him. Well this was all new to Draco and when Malfoy had proposed the plan of arranging a sort of crash date and explained how he would work it all out, Harry walked off.

But three months later and here he sits, not a day closer to knowing her as a real person.

He'd almost been sick to his stomach the last time they hung out together, and following morning after kicking up the town with Draco. He even said he'd never do it again, but last night, after a few rounds of spiked mead, followed with a few shots of of fire whiskey; the alcohol took over, again. And once again Harry turned into the classic love sick drunken pup.

Draco started giving him weird ideas of their same old plan to get him sagged by Pansy—he said that if he just listen to him, and went along with his way of doing things with women; the hoax trip, the pretend business meeting; Harry would be home free. Pansy deep down was a pushover and she would be devastated in the end and he, Harry would be this great guy left hanging around, just waiting to pick up all those shatter pieces of her broken heart. Draco said she would look at him from that day on in a different way.

* * *

_"Come on, You'll be sort of like a hero mate!" laughed Draco. he was drunk too and smiling as he downed the last bit of his brew._

_Harry thought about it. He simply didn't have the heart for those sort of emotional games, but perhaps he should, the more he thought on it that night, the more he wished he was like Draco. If he had been then maybe Ginny wouldn't have found it so easy to feed him lie after lie. Maybe he would have been a better man at beating her at her own little sex games with his heart. . . ._

_"Oh God, I can't believe I'm considering this." Harry groaned and dropped his head into his hands like a load of dead weight. He didn't want to drink anything else for a really long time. He knew it Draco was no good. A big phony for the ladies, a low down snake in the grass and he was as poisonous as a snake could get, that's what he was. He looked at women as a sport; a chess game where no rules applied and he was trying to turn him into that same sort of monster._

_"Listen pal, you've got to calm down, they're just dames. You can't marry'em, they're just for fun! Just leave everything—up—to—me. Okay."_

_Harry had a lot more to lose than his nice guy reputation for agreeing to go along with Draco's plan. But everything was blurry and the mind just doesn't negotiate well when it's intoxicated. But he did go along, even after the effects of the alcohol blew over the next day. It was confirmed; he was lonely, hurt, and desperate and maybe, just maybe deep down he really did crave Draco's power over women._


	5. Chapter 4

**_MY SWEET CASSABANANA_**

Chapter 4

* * *

That night Pansy used every go-to-sleep trick she knew other than a self-stunning charm. She wrapped a lock of lavender under her pillow and took deep breaths of it until she nearly hyperventilated. Then she lay with her eyes closed and counted leaping gargoyle's like she use to do when she was little.

She imagined the whole scene, with crickets chirping, bull frogs whining, owls hooting as the wind blew and then out popped one lumpy gray monster at a time from a bed of flowers. Next she pictured herself in a swing below a Maple tree, with a circus of dancing winged little pixies prancing at her feet. But instead of drifting off to sleep, she worked up an appetite and ending up wandering downstairs for a midnight snack.

She thought about Draco, but thinking about Draco wasn't going to help her sleep. Thinking about him would only make her wonder if she'd remembered everything she wanted to take with her to Italy.

Snapping on her bedside lamp, she sat up and reached for her eyeglasses on the nightstand.

During the day she'd jinx her vision long enough to make it through a work load. The trouble with that was most of the time, jinxes, they left you with a terrible headache if they became a daily routine. Too much of anything was never good for you.

Her mother had introduced the possibility of having glasses made especially for her long before she departed for Hogwarts, and she's been wearing specks since she was at least five years old. She hated them, really hated them; also over time she became more like her mother and she was more concerned with her over-all appearance than she was about a few measly migraines. So she never let a soul know she needed corrective wear for her eye sight.

Her parents always kept a pair of glasses at home and when she returned for the holidays she was so relieved to rid herself from the discomfort of walking around with a jinx surrounding her head all day.

* * *

She threw back the sheets and climbed out of bed. Her bags sat on the floor beside her chest of drawers. She would love to take another suitcase. But then again it was like Draco said; only for one night. Deep down she knew she wanted more, but didn't want to ruin the possibility of a wonderful once in a lifetime chance to prove to him she was the witch of his dreams. She really did miss the old Draco, the boy that promised her that if she let him do it they'd get married someday and have a little girl like her. So she gave him her virginity for empty promises, as a matter of fact she gave it to him every Saturday for nearly two years. Then came her final year at Hogwarts, after the war and after everything had returned to normalcy, she was so sure they could be happy at last, start working on their dreams together the way he promised. But then that's when she began to realize that her Hogwarts sweetheart was never going to give her a ring, let alone make her a noble wizard's wife, and most definitely not his wife.

But she fought through all her pain, and all of her frustration. She found a way to forgive him in the end: They were young and there was so much going on in the world at the time; he just needed a way to release all the anger he'd been pinning up inside of himself. They were just two kids experimenting with one another and he didn't know the first thing about pleasing a woman. He never worried about really pleasing her, in fact he never worried about accidentally getting her pregnant either. That responsibility had always been left up to her.

She shuddered at the thought back then, but she had no choice, Hermione was the smartest in their year. She had to take a chance and ask for her help in creating a spell that wouldn't fail against pregnancies. Hermione kept her word, she never told anyone.

Turning off her beside lantern, she sat up on her bed in the dark and started drinking her glass of warm milk.

"I haven't seen you this excited since you were eleven and your mother and I had to take you to Hogwarts." Nick said standing in her doorway. Pansy looked up and instantly felt guilty about making so much noise down in the kitchen moments ago. She knew full and well that her parents were asleep this time of night and that Nick had to be in his office first thing in the morning.

"I'm so sorry for waking you." she said. "I'll be a little quieter next time."

"No PansiBear, it's not your fault. I couldn't sleep, either." Nick came over and sat on her bed with her. He could see reason for her mother's concern, she was still just a babe; a fully grown witch perhaps but still just a babe in both their eyes. How young she looked in her ice cream pajamas. Nick smiled and patted her knee. She was young, only twenty-two. "I hate you're upsetting your mother so about this trip you're planning to take."

Pansy sat her half-finished glass of milk on the nightstand.

"I probably shouldn't be, but I can't seem to get it out of my mind that someday you're going to change and there's not much we can do to stop it."

"That's because I will, but for the better Nick. Draco is the man for me." She sat on the bed with the only father she's known in the last thirteen years of her life. "But I hope you're not scared that I'll run off and get married and leave you to fend with a new baby all by yourself in London. I would never do that."

"Aah so your mother let you in on the good news did she?"

Pansy nodded with excitement. Nick laughed. "I know you wouldn't PansiBear." Nick reached over and squeezed his daughter's hand. "It's a bit scary bringing in a new baby. Things are still a bit on the upturn. I've no idea what the two of us could have been thinking, we almost have you raised. Times like these and most couples are seeking quiet alone time, not the entrance of a new baby into their home."

"Aren't you happy about the baby Nick?"

"Happy! I'm over joyed but we lost a great deal of sleep, many nights, in worry over you at that school of yours. I'm not so sure your mother and I can withstand another child going through what you did. That's all. But look at the young woman you've become. I think we did a fair job considering—"

"Considering nothing, Nicholas! You've done a super job. This new baby couldn't ask for a better father."

* * *

After he left Pansy flopped back on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. She was more than sure she was a rotten teenager. And that she nearly drove her poor parents into the Psych ward of St. Mungos. Like the one time she'd gotten into a fight in her common room or the one million times she'd gone to Draco's rescue even after he'd taken his father's path in following Deatheaters. Pansy propped herself on her elbows, resettled her glasses on her nose and looked at her manicure.

All she could think of at that moment was Draco. The curiosity of what was going to happen on their trip was killing her. She seriously hated the idea of his veela assistant, what's-her-face, coming along. It was kind of weird to think of any other woman in bed with her Draco. He was the only boy she'd ever loved and ever would love, she was starving for love so badly, she tried to sagged two super majorily hot guys at her job before but things never went as planned; she simply couldn't lie to herself like that, sleep with someone she just didn't care about and what would he say if he were to ever find out that she let another man have what she promised would always be his and only his. Four years now and she's still waiting for him to come back to her.

She was every bit of her mother's daughter. Her mother had been the same way when her father died. Women in her family have a weakness for good looking men and her real father was certainly a looker. Nicholas, not so much, but he had a good heart.

She paused. Yea, they had a weakness for good-looking men who loved you hard and then left you crying, the way her real father died and left her and her mother, years ago.

* * *

A young witch came over with his drink, _Hooker over the Rim;_ it was one of his favorites. A lime slice hooked over the rim of the glass instead of a wedge of lime in the glass.

"Just the way you like it Draco," she said. "Frosted with rocks. We don't have any other customers. Do you mind if I sit down a minute?"

"I'd be honored sweets. . .uh." Sapphire? Cherry? For the love of Merlin he couldn't remember her name and she's only told him like nine times.

"Celestrella. Celeste." She said with a smile, and she wasn't the least insulted that he'd forgotten.

"Celeste. Thank you. I'd buy you a drink, except I don't know if you could have one while you're at work."

"I don't drink." She said

"Well in that case I insist you share one with me. We can't have you growing up all pristine and like a pansy-flower now can we."

She laughed showing off her pearly whites. "They said you were a load of laughs." She gazed at him. "How old are you Draco?"

"Twenty-three."

"Twenty-three and you don't at least wear an engagement ring to show that you're spoken for. So you're not married?"

"Nope."

"Dating anyone?"

"Nope. Not at the moment."

"What rotten luck. For her I mean."

A troll could see where this conversation was going. Draco sat at his favorite open-air bar and nursed open the thighs of the pretty little red headed cocktail waitress. They both tossed their heads back and down a gin and tonic Caribbean mix while he enjoyed the waves roll in on a Waikiki Beach. The moon was shining on the waters and her tits were like melons ripe and ready for his touch. It was a picture perfect scene in his book. She was a bit young, sixteen maybe seventeen, but she had to learn the ropes sooner or later and he had no problem with teaching them to her.

"No sweetheart I'm not married, had my poor heart broken and so many dangers in my past I just don't feel I can trust anyone in my life right now. But if I ever decide to marry I really hope she's as beautiful as you are tonight. We'd fall deeply in love; perhaps have a little girl that looks exactly like you."

"Last call, Mr. Malfoy," said the bartender. The wizard dimmed the lights behind the bar and frowned. He knew the girl, she was a local on the island and too young for the likes of a man like Draco. But she wasn't his daughter so he had no business putting his nose in.

"Then hit me again. I feel abstinence creeping up on me; and we can't have that now can we?" He looked over at the girl and the young witch giggled at his joke.

"_I'll hit you alright, you filthy piece of—"_

"What was that Matt?" Draco asked the Bartender, sure he heard the wizard whispering something smartass under his breath again.

"Er-nothing Mr. Malfoy—just checking on my whiskey supply."

"_Riiight_. . . ." Draco said. Then he turned his attention back to the young waitress. He looked at the red-head again. Leaned back in his chair and studied her. Smooth unlined face, red little ringlets down to her shoulders, perky tits, small waist and that fuck-me-anyway-you-want-killer-tight-young-ass!

She really knew how to hurt a guy.

"Listen sweetheart, there's an advantage to being that special woman to a man like me. You see that big house up there on the hill? Well, I own an apartment there. It's a part of a business arrangement, walking distance from this little bar of yours, so I could set you up there for as long as you like, you can work or not work, drink yourself silly each day and not have to worry about a thing until I made it home."

She braced her chin on her hand.

"Thing is, I can't imagine what a beautiful young witch like you, what she'd find interesting in a loner like me."

She laughed again.

It was a particularly good offer for a girl like her and Draco knew it. He hadn't come up with any other way of spending his evening, so she could fill the gap for the time being; until his arrangements with Harry in the morning. Tonight though he was feeling particularly gloomy. He was getting a little tired of the way he often ran through women, but they made it so bloody easy. It wasn't like he was twisting anyone's arm. Any woman in her right mind already knew his history and they were always free to turn him down. It was the money they craved, not him.

When his little game of Catch-Me-If-You-Can started it was new, really exciting. He and Zabini were like two kids in the candy store. Truth was the game had worn thin. Draco had worn thin. Zabini cashed in and fell for a Swedish model, got married, became a happy dad. And well without his partner in crime; this little game that quickly became his life wasn't so amusing anymore. Half the times he had no idea who he woke up with from one day to the next.

Unfortunately he was currently in Hawaii, bored, with nothing to do and nowhere to go. He really liked the girl and he'd like her even more if she'd stripped naked for him and fucked his misery into absolute oblivion.

The bartender forced to keep his lips shut as Draco unleashed an entire fantasy of lies on the young woman. It wouldn't make much difference what he said. The girl was a new hire but she wasn't that brand new, the other cocktail waitresses had filled her on the likes of Draco Malfoy. So it wasn't has if she was going in blind, thought the bartender to himself, she knew full and well what she was asking for.

The bartender wiped down the rest of his countertop in silence. _"Draco, kid you sure know how to pick'em, because not one of 'em has turned your slimey arse down yet. Not even my own fucking whore of an ex-__wife."_

* * *

**_If you read, please leave a review good or bad. It's just polite to do so._**


	6. Chapter 5

**_MY SWEET CASSABANANA_**

Chapter 5

* * *

She was up an hour before she had to be, excitement was getting the best of her and she simply couldn't sleep another wink, her early rise gave her uninterrupted time in the bathroom. She began with a Jasmine scented _hair-raising potion_ to lift her leg hairs on end. Then she opened her bottle of Mrs. Scower's Magical Waxing Kit, it was excellent mixture of Bundimun secretion, chopped daisy and leech juice the fresh scent from the daisy masked the crude odor of Bundimun secretion and leech juice; and it did wonders for leg-hair removal. She put her glasses on to double check her bikini line and she used hair removal there as well.

She rubbed the waxing lotion everywhere she didn't want hair to be and then she hopped into a steamy hot shower.

Her tummy was quivering with nervous anticipation, so once she was done with her bath she went in search of her moonstone necklace. She sprayed and misted herself with perfume. Thanks to her mother occupation and connection with so many cologne companies, she was always fortunate enough to have the newest line of any fragrance long before the original product was released. She switched scents according to the season of the year. And because it was approaching summer, her choice for this morning was a fragrance called Seaside Sexuals.

As she put back on her glasses, she wondered if Draco knew that she wore them. She thought about tucking a pair into her suitcase, then immediately decided against it. Glasses made her look too much like a nerd. Besides, she ought to be able to locate her wand in the morning without bumping into anything. Then she'd put her vision jinx on first thing in the morning.

Next she gave her hair a touch up with her brush, fluffing it out a bit for that windy fresh look she liked, and then she rechecked her make-up for the third time. Last thing was to put on her new dress, she'd chosen it after a great deal of self-debating; it was proudly on display in the window of a clothing store next to Millamant's Magic Marquee's; nine-hundred and forty-nine galleons. It was white with periwinkle blue hibiscus flowers hand sewn. The perfect color combination of it and the matching blue belt-ribbon made her look sweet. With the matching jacket she purchased at another five-hundred galleons the dressed looked very conservative. But her Draco, she knew like sweet. . .and without the jacket she wasn't even slightly conservative.

Pansy decided she would wear the jacket downstairs to breakfast, to simply get past her mother's approval in the kitchen.

* * *

"I see you're loaded and ready for departure 'eh Pansibear." Her father said when she apparrated into the kitchen.

"That's a bit much isn't it my darling?" said her mother once she caught sight of the dress she was wearing. "It's remarkable, how much did you spend on that dress."

"Oh—not much, got it on sale." She was lying, she had too, and her mother would have killed her.

"Not much! Well it surely looks like you put a small fortune into it."

"Well if you knew Draco like I do, you'd understand."

"I expect I understand now." Said her mother and she snipped off a tiny golden price tag with her wand, and handed it to her daughter after reading the price for herself. "I poured you some pumpkin juice."

"Thanks." She eyed the golden tag and her eyes followed her mother over to the stove. "Juice is probably all I'm going to have this morning, mother."

"Nonsense, I've been up all morning preparing this gateau for you and your father."

Pansy was still standing and smiled as she brought the dish to their breakfast table.

Her mother's gateau was an open faced layered dish of omelettes stacked and sandwiched together with garlic cream cheese and layered with fresh vegetables and herbs. Pansy's mother often added fresh chives and chive flowers, and topped it off with parmesan shavings. She watched her father accept several pieces of thinly sliced ham and he folded his copy of The Daily Prophet, and pushed it aside.

"A good breakfast will help to settle your stomach."

Her mother had said that very thing on so many occasions. She simply had to eat breakfast on any morning before she left for her train ride back to school; she had to eat breakfast at home before her NEWTs and her OWLs, before her first job interview at the Daily Prophet.

"Go on, sit down." said her father.

Pansy sat down and accepted her slice from the omelette gateau. The cure of a sound breakfast did pretty well, or maybe it was the calming effect of sitting across from her parents, each of them in their chairs as if today was just another normal day. Her mother began talking about the flight conditions and hoped that Pansy hadn't planned on traveling by floo in a dress that expensive. "No mother I haven't. I'm sure Draco will send for me." Pansy didn't feel like talking about the weather, because this was not a normal day for her. It was anything but that. She wanted so badly the very thing that they shared with one another.

Love, admiration, trust, a marriage built to last and nothing between heaven and earth to destroy it. Pansy listen to the sound of her mother's voice as she talked on with Nicholas and remembered that her mother use to sing around the house all the time.

"Mother, why don't you sing anymore?"

Her mother looked startled. "What? Well what in Merlin's name made you asked that question Pansibear?"

Pansy gazed off into space for a few seconds. "I don't know. The new baby I guess."

Her mother smiled so brightly the sun was no comparison. "Oh I see, and I suppose you feel the baby would love the idea of me singing around the house do you?"

"I always did."

Her mother smiled again and Nicholas leaned in to give her a kiss.

Before Pansy knew it, she had finished her slice of omelet and she hurried back to her bathroom to brush her teeth and retouch her clear lip gloss. As she lifted her pearl colored suitcase into her hand, she heard a sharp knock at their front door. Her stomach churned again, and for one crazy minute she began to wonder if this was a good idea at all.

Then she pecked out her bedroom window, saw Harry Potter standing idly on her doorstep and she screamed. She knew he was going to ruin this for her; he'd be a fool to seriously think that Draco would let him tag along on their special date. She hoped he'd thought of a way of losing him before they reached the portkey. She was hoping that he'd oversleep or something and that she and Draco ported out and sent him to a completely different location and left him waiting there without them; it's what she would have done.

Pansy slipped back into the jacket for her dress, snatched up her suitcase and dissapparated to the living room of their home. She really didn't want to deal with Harry's bad hair this morning, or his bad clothes, or his silent judgment of the situation.

By the time she appeared in the living room, she turned to see her mother and Harry Potter standing unexpectantly in the living room with her laughing.

"Okay, well mother I see your meet Mr. Potter." Pansy took a deep breath. She had an idea of what to expect from this loser. But what she hadn't expected was the lightweight suit jacket and no tie, which made him look like one of her mother campaign models from their magazines, and she hadn't expected him to be wearing those stylish sleek black trousers or for him to suddenly have complete control of his hair. She couldn't see his eyes on account of those horrible round glasses he always wore. But thanks to her mother so carefully butting in she now had to acknowledged they even shared the same color of green eyes.

Harry made the subtle move towards her and lifted her suitcase from her hands. . .

"Um Harry, I'd like you to meet my—my mother."

Harry smiled and stretched out his hand.

_Oh, yes,_ Pansy thought_. I can see just what you're up to Potter._ She'd been on the delivering end of that kind of smile before and she knew what he was doing. He was trying to show up on her Draco and win her mother over. _Well try all you like Harry Potter, it isn't gonna work, she can see right through you and so can I._

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Parkinson."

_Wow_, thought her mother. So this is the famous Harry Potter. She gave him a full look over. _Why, if he isn't your everyday Romeo._ "Same here," she said after a brief pause "and my name is Annabelle, Annabelle Lowderseid. Parkinson was the name of my late husband. Pansy's real father; she still goes by her father's name."

"Oh." Replied Harry shocked. He had no idea. "Well I'm sorry for your loss. And yours Pansy." He gave his head a sort of gentleman's bow.

"Oh it was years ago." Said her mother then, and we've managed.

Pansy ignored the condolence. _Leave it up to Poothead to ruin the introduction with something has hairbrained as that. . . . _"Wow it's hard to believe you're Pansy mom. You look more like her sister."

Pansy went wide eyed at that. _You're asking for it Potter! Once more, just one and I'm gonna give it to you too.. . ._ "Well thank you Mr. Potter. And take good care of my little Pansibear won't you." Annabelle knew her daughter hated her saying her childhood name out loud. Actually, she couldn't ever recall letting any of her friends ever hear her and Nick call her their little Pansibear.

"Oh absolutely," Harry said. "Well. . .um _Pansy!. . ._we'd better get going if we're going to make it there on time."

"Oh, wait one moment!" Shouted her mother and she raced through the room and went to fetch her tripod camera.

* * *

Mrs. Lowderseid snapped several pictures. Two with her daughter standing with Harry side by side and then two separate photos of each of them alone. Pansy had no idea but her mother had every intention of sending the young man's photograph over to her company for consideration as next season's model. Her winter line of new male fragrances needed a new image.

Her mother kissed her goodbye and took a step back. Harry held her suitcase in one hand and took her other into his. "_Ready,_ _Pansibear_?" he whispered low enough for her ears only. He couldn't help it and she heard the laughter in his voice.

Pansy steamed and eyed him steadily she couldn't wait until she was out of range from her mother. She was going to kill him. "Ooooh you just wait Harry Potter, you just wait!"

He rolled in his lips to keep from laughing. But the look on her face didn't even hint humor. But all he could think of, was that it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard anyone call her before. "I'm . . ._he coughed_. . .I'm sorry. It's really a cute name. It sort of suits you." His grin begged for her to smile.

The dimple in her right cheek deepened. "Harry Potter, this is a serious matter. If you tell anyone I'll—. . ."

They vanished together.

Annebelle stood there on the pavement of their front lawn long after her and Harry disapparated. With the idea of her being escorted by someone like Harry, the chosen one, there wasn't much to fret about, but it left a heaviness on her heart all the same. Because she knew before long her little girl would be back in the claws of that retched Malfoy boy again.

She didn't like Draco. And she didn't like the way he often toyed with her baby's emotions. If Draco had a bad childhood, she was sorry for that, but it turned him into the sort of man exactly like his father had been. A man who cared only about himself and Pansy wouldn't be able to fix him. Narcissa never could.

Annabelle wasn't the type to wish a broken heart on any woman, let alone her very own daughter, but in this case she hoped Draco broke Pansy heart good and strong this time. So badly, that she'd never want to see the likes of him again. She knew her Pansibear would get over it. She was tough, like her father, tougher than most people gave her credit for. But then there weren't many people who remembered her father like she did.

* * *

_If you read, please leave a review good or bad. It's just polite to do so._


	7. Chapter 6

_**MY SWEET CASSABANANA**_

Chapter 6

* * *

Alright so their plan was to get her to the Ministry, where they would meet up with Malfoy, board the portkey to Italy and then he'd just wait around for Malfoy to dump her. It was only a matter of time before he did; he was just that type of bloke

They reappeared in an abandon alley just a block away from the entrance that Malfoy had instructed him to use. He and Pansy made a mad dash pass a muggle newspaper stand and then straight out into the London traffic. Squinting into the brightness of the morning sun, Harry spotted the bold red color of the phone booth. Pansy was getting really upset; she didn't understand why Harry felt they had to use this particular entrance into the Ministry.

A breeze molded the dress she was wearing to her legs; he caught his breath in appreciation. At that moment he hated Draco for setting her up like this. Harry took his advice and purchased an entire new wardrobe of designer clothes. After today this was supposed to be his big breaking moment of making this Pansy Parkinson his forever. He even got a haircut. He couldn't blame her for not paying any attention to a guy like him, when a guy like Malfoy showed up. And he couldn't blame her for missing the flaws in Malfoy's character, either. For all he knew Pansy had flaws in her character, flaws that he was just too befuddled with lust to notice.

"Hey, We're here." He said as they descend downward in the booth and the clear view of the Ministry Atrium came into view. He flashed her a smile that read everything was going to be just fine.

Pansy was beginning to feel a bit nervous. "Where is he?" she asked Harry and released his hand. She stepped out of the doorway and ran into the center of the Atrium. "He should be here."

_Ten minutes later. . ._

The two of them found their way to the sixth level of the Ministry, it was the only idea Harry could come up with at the time. "Goodmorning, sir." said a young woman standing behind the counter as they entered the office. "Welcome to the Department of Magical Transportation, how can I help you?"

They were both looking over their watches. Everything was set as planned neither of them were late. "Yes, we were schedule for a port out with a Mr. Draco Malfoy."

"At this porting station sir?"

"Well yes, this porting station, well, I suppose so. How many are there?"

"thirteen sir!"

"You dumbass!" Pansy fumed at him.

"Alright, alright. Yes, yes ma'am this porting station."

"Are you certain sir?"

"Just check your bloody charts or schedules or whatever you have there would you. . . .Just do your job!"

The woman gave him a snappy look. The minutes hung like hours as the clerk left the counter to check the time and schedule of their port.

"The Porting call for this departure was announce ten minutes ago sir." She said and Harry's blood started to boil. She seemed almost delighted to be telling him that.

"Ten minutes but we've been standing her for ten minutes!" he shouted, and then he glanced around in the area to where Pansy had gone too. "Pansy, What have you done with your suitcase?" he asked, then immediately turned his attention back to the lady at the counter. "Ma'am, would you mind checking again. You've seen us; we've been standing here for every bit of ten minutes."

"I understand that sir. The port for a Mr. Malfoy was scheduled to depart at eight'o clock this morning." She pulled out a blue brochure of some type and pushed it out onto the counter for Harry to take. "However, it clearly states that all parties are expected to arrive at their porting station fifteen minutes prior to departure sir. I'm sorry but that scheduled port out has already been taken."

"On whose instruction?"

"Harry!" Pansy came up beside him and called his name.

"I'm not sure sir; if you wish to file a complaint please see the desk clerk around the corner at office marked number twenty-nine. I'm just doing my job" she cracked a smile, then lowered it twice as fast.

"Harry!" Pansy voice called him again.

"Look I'm sorry if I seemed rude earlier, I don't wish to file a complaint with anyone, can we simply schedule for a new portkey to that exact destination. How long will it take?"

The woman eyed him and then flipped through several pages on her clipboard. "To schedule a port for two to Italy, exact location. . .well it appears it was scheduled for a hotel privacy suite. Let's see. . .that will be twenty-three hours from now, give or take a few based on approval, possible cancellation due to weather and trafficking and priority take-offs."

"HARRY POTTER!" Pansy looked a downright pale. No in fact she looked scared to death. Maybe it was just her nerves building. He considered offering her a chance to sit down and calm herself while he got everything sorted out. He couldn't mess up this one chance with her. It may have been a crappy idea to begin with but so far it had been his only shot at getting close to her.

"What is it Pansy?"

She stomped her heel into the floor."Someone has stolen my suitcase! And you've already proven how great a job you can do at ruining my life for me, let's just go." She turned and started headed along the marbled hallway that led to the exit door of the porting office.

Now he felt heat sliding down his spine "How?" He blurted aloud. He was pretty sure that he could pull a few strings in no time to get them there. Desperation wasn't in the cards but at this moment he could tell from the look on her face that he was blowing his chances with her big time."Look all I need to do—"

"No. All you need to do Harry Potter is too think of a way to get me there quickly! Not in twenty-three hours, not in twenty, not even in ten." She scowled at him and continued walking towards the door. If he ever thought anyone or anything was particularly sexy at their maddest it was her, but she hadn't spared him even a second to live in the moment. She was already heading out of the door. He had to think fast.

"I can do it in one hour."

"That's even better!" she said, stopping again to turn on her heels and face him. He got a clear view of something he knew had to be a figment of his imagination. Was Pansy wearing glasses?

* * *

She didn't spare him a moment of sympathy as he raced along the back roads of London as fast as his BMW Z3 would allow them to go. Dudley had talked him into buying it a year ago to please his Aunt and Uncle. It wasn't the latest line of sports cars but it came in useful whenever he wanted to pay his family a visit during the holidays. Aunt Petunia and his Uncle Vernon still didn't take well to him just popping in without a solid reason as how he got there, and a broom wasn't considered as solid transportation. He was still forbidden to perform magic whenever they or his cousin Dudley were around, although Dudley was a bit more forgiving of it now.

And this entire arrangement of past events he had to explain to one highly upset Misses Parkinson as they raced along the country roads. Harry tried not to think poorly of her for taking that kind of crap from Malfoy, but he couldn't help being a little disenchanted with her. If it had been his call he would have never taken the port without her by his side. Oh well, he needed to squeeze whatever enjoyment he could from this short amount of time he had with her.

* * *

They were speeding past a wide open plain surrounded by a fence that stretched for miles, as a plane taxied down a runway and took off over head, its belly came into clear view. Harry was driving faster than he'd ever driven before in his life and with the top to his car down. Pansy voice rose above the roar of the jet overhead; screaming so loud that he nearly curved off the road. Harry looked up, and sure enough a private jet was screaming past them in the sky. He'd been so engrossed into telling her about his Aunt and Uncle, and their being the main reason for him owning a muggle car, that he forgotten to mention that his cousin was a pilot and that they were about to board a plane straight to Italy.

They had finally made it and his cousin greeted them in the lobby. Dudley was a great deal taller, his chest was thick and broad like his fathers and he was dresses in his full pilot's uniform. Black trousers, white shirt, black coat with yellow shoulder marks and patent-leather black shoes.

"Thanks Dudley I really owe you one." Harry said as he shook his cousin's hand.

"Don't mention it Harry, now we're even right?" He gave Harry a strong, friendly pat on the back. "Would love to take you two myself. If I'd have gotten your call only a few hours earlier. . . . but Jackson is a great airmens been with the company for years, and did I mention that today is his anniversary with us? Fifty-five years and counting." Dudley stopped talking and looked at the woman walking beside Harry. "Have you ever flown in a private plane before?"

Pansy shook her head.

"Well, it's like I was telling Harry here, you'll be fine. Jackson is a really good pilot." The words tasted like garbage in his mouth, but he made himself say them, so she wouldn't be so scared. Besides He owed Harry this favor for saving their lives and Jackson was a good pilot from everything he had heard of. In his younger days with the company, Jackson was A1. The guy might have a knack of blacking out at a certain altitude now, but it didn't mean he couldn't get the job done, and besides, word has it that the company Doc., upped his dosage in heart medication recently so now he was a lot better at staying conscious during full flights. "You'll be in Italy before you know it."

* * *

A gray haired seventy-year old man greeted them outback. He had a slump in his back and he looked every bit of his years "All righty then. Let's get her cracking. So you're cousin to Pilot Dursley is that so son?"

"Yes, My name is Harry Potter and this lovely lady with me is Miss Pansy Parkinson."

"All righty, all righty then, my boy, me oh my don't you two make a good pair. Dursley tells me she's not used to flying. No problemo, Harry you take the copilot's seat and Miss Parkinson here can sit behind us."

"Okay!" Harry clapped his hands together and felt excited almost immediately, he'd been on a few flying expedition with his cousin. Dudley had even gave him a beginner's course once before, so he wasn't about to turn down a chance to be in front where the action was. He'd love to take a crack at flying the thing, plus it was likely to earn him a few cool points with Pansy watching him in action.

Pansy looked a little pale as she climbed the small ramp and walked into the plane. Harry starting thinking that she must really want this overnight experience with Malfoy if she was this afraid of a muggle airplane.

He followed her, helped her into her seat and gave her an encouraging smile before heading back to the copilot's seat. He considered offering to sit in back with her and help to calm her fears, but then he remember what Malfoy said about getting too emotional with her before the big dump. Malfoy was the only reason she was attempting any of this at all, so he thought better of it and left her alone.

* * *

The plane took off.

"Er, Harry what's these things in the seat next to me?"

Harry turned around to look, and sure enough there were three white bundles with red and black labels on the seat next to her. "They're what muggles call parachutes."

"What's a pair of shootes?" she asked.

"What's a muggle?" asked Jackson.

They both looked in his direction.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head sweetie; those parachutes are just in case." Jackson said. Then he picked up his earpiece and started talking to the tower.

Harry thought it was kind of weird to have a bundle of parachutes sitting there like that, and it wasn't making things any easier if he had to explain to her what they were and why they had to have them. She refocused her glasses and her eyes grew wide with fear as she began to read the precautionary warnings label on one of the parachutes.

**WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!**

THIS IS A HIGH PERFORMANCE PARACHUTE. EVEN NORMAL USE MAY RESULT IN SERIOUS INJURY OR DEATH.

TRAINING AND/OR EXPERIENCE ARE REQUIRED TO LOWER THE RISK OF SERIOUS INJURY OR DEATH!

LOWER THE RISK OF DEATH, SERIOUS INJURY, CANOPY DAMAGE AND HARD OPENINGS BY NEVER EXCEEDING

THE LIMITS SHOWN ON THE WARNING LABEL.

READ AND COMPLY

ALL MANUFACTURER'S MANUALS, RECOMMENDATIONS. PROCEDURES.

PLACARDS AND LIMITATIONS.

PARACHUTE SYSTEMS SOMETIMES FAIL TO OPERATE CORRECTLY, EVEN

WHEN PROPERLY MANUFACTURED, ASSEMBLED, PACKED AND OPERATED.

YOU RISK SERIOUS INJURY AND DEATH EACH TIME YOU USE THIS SYSTEM.

TRAINING AND PROFICIENCY REQUIREMENTS:

* * *

**DO NOT USE THIS PARACHUTE SYSTEM UNLESS YOU HAVE:  
**** A. **RECEIVED INSTRUCTION IN THE USE OF THIS SPECIFIC PARACHUTE

SYSTEM AND OPERATE IT WITHIN THE STUDENT OR NOVICE

**LIMITATIONS LISTED BELOW:**

**B. **PERFORMED AT LEAST 50 RAM AIR PARACHUTE JUMPS AND AT

LEAST I0 SOFT STAND UP LANDINGS, WITHIN THE TARGET AREA.

USING A CANOPY NO MORE THAN |5% LARGER THAN THIS SIZE**.**

** C. **EXPERIENCE WITH THIS EQUIPMENT AND ARE HIGHLY FAMILIAR

AND PROFICIENT WITH THE OPERATION, FLIGHT AND LANDING

CHARACTERISTICS OF THIS MODEL/SIZE PARACHUTE AND SYSTEM.

"Pansy, are you okay with this?" He turned towards her as much as his seat belt would allow.

She nodded, but she didn't look okay. She looked completely freaked out. Then she shook her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, dug her perfectly polished fingernails into the arms of the seat and held her breath.

To hell with what Malfoy said, Harry could stand seeing her like that. He reached out to her. "Here hold my hand."

Her eyes popped and she stared at his outstretched hand. Then she leaned forward and grabbed it. Her hands were clammy and her nails dug into his palm.

He didn't care. He'd put up with the pain if it helped her. She needed him right now, and maybe she'd need him later, after all of this was over.

Jackson must have been aware of her distress because he lowered the altitude of the plane almost immediately. "See." Harry said then. "He has it under complete control, piece of cake."

* * *

_**A lot of people read, but never care to leave a review. If you read, please leave a review good or bad. It's just polite to do so. Without reviews the desire to update may lose my interest.**_


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